


Catalyst

by travels_in_time



Category: Doctor Who, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:19:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1973. Do you know where your Time Agent is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Катализатор](https://archiveofourown.org/works/630272) by [Rainy_Elliot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainy_Elliot/pseuds/Rainy_Elliot)



The office was emptying out fast for the night, the last few detectives standing and donning their coats. Sam was looking up to wave them out when a man coming through the double doors caught his attention.

It wasn't so much his wide smile, directed at the exiting CID men who nodded curtly and detoured around him. It wasn't even his looks, which were stunning by any decade's standards. It was the long, military-style greatcoat that Sam was staring at, as the man walked up to his desk.

"Hi there. Captain Jack Harkness." The man extended his hand towards Sam, that smile still firmly in place. Up close, the greatcoat was less distracting; the good looks were more so. Sam smiled back, taking care to make it strictly professional, and shook the man's hand.

"DI Sam Tyler. Can I help you?"

Harkness propped a hip on the end of Sam's desk and crossed his arms. "Oh, I certainly hope so."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the man, whose own eyes were meeting his, amused and most definitely interested. This was not normal behaviour for 1973. Something was off here. Whether it was the stranger himself, or Sam's subconscious trying to provide him with a little company for the night, the situation would need careful handling. "Who were you looking for?"

Harkness leaned forward and spoke almost conspiratorially. "DCI Hunt, actually, but I'm sure that you and I could come to some kind of arrangement."

The double doors opened again and Gene strode in, seeming to take in the situation at a glance. "Oi, Harkness! Lay off me DI."

Harkness straightened, winking at Sam before turning to give Gene a wounded look. "I was just saying hello!" he protested.

"Well, don't." Gene headed towards his office, but Harkness stepped in front of him and enveloped him in a bear hug. Sam winced, waiting for the inevitable, but Gene just shook Harkness off irritably. "Get off, you bloody great poofter."

"Is that a gun in your pocket, Gene, or--"

"It's a gun, Harkness, and I am _not_ happy to see you, so don't you even start." Gene pulled out the item under discussion and tossed it in Sam's direction. "Hide that somewhere. Don't get prints on it."

Sam, who'd flinched instinctively but caught the gun anyway, glared at him. Gene rolled his eyes. "It's not loaded, you div." He swept into his office with Harkness in his wake. "In here, Tyler!" he barked over his shoulder.

Sam put the firearm in his bottom desk drawer--the "deal with it later" one, a category that was threatening to encroach onto the rest of the desk--and followed them.

Gene took a seat behind his desk and lit a cigarette. "Tyler, Harkness."

Sam shook his head at Gene's idea of an introduction. "So what are you captain of?" he asked.

"It'd take a while to explain." Harkness raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing later tonight?"

"Captain Harkness is from the 51st century." Gene blew smoke in Sam's direction. "The two of you should get along just peachy."

That got Sam's attention in a hurry. Was it possible--? No, surely not. He was in a coma, wasn't he? He hadn't actually travelled in time. At least he didn't think so. And Harkness would never have told Gene, if it were true. But it would explain his bearing, so different from the macho posturing of the 1970's... It wouldn't hurt to play along. Maybe he'd get an opportunity later on to get Harkness alone, find out if he knew anything useful.

Sam smiled at Harkness. "Oh, well, you're further up than me. I'm only from the 21st century."

Jack laughed. "A man with a sense of humour. And you work with Gene? Amazing."

Gene ignored that. "What've you got, Harkness?"

Harkness leaned against the filing cabinet. "I want to file a complaint about one of your officers."

"What, you tried to feel up Phyllis again? Told you, Jack, you're wasting your time. Chew you up and spit you out, that one will."

"It's the challenge that turns me on."

Gene snorted. "Well, turn off then, you randy git. Tell me something helpful for a change. Tyler, make yourself useful."

Sam filched a notepad and a pen off Gene's desk to take notes, and tried not to stare as Harkness's attitude transformed. The flirty behaviour disappeared almost entirely, and he was all business.

"The Jensen jewellery heist, that was the Thompson brothers."

Gene shook his head. "We turned them upside down, got nothing." Sam looked up at that. Snouts--informants, he corrected himself--gave information to the police, not the other way round. Gene glared at him, and Sam rolled his eyes and kept silent with an effort.

"Word on the street says that they're working with the Pittman gang. They're to lay low on the stash for a while and then get it out of town, break it up, but it was the Thompson brothers. You'll get no evidence unless you can get one of Pittman's boys to squeal on them. And there's a new guy in town, up from London, it's gotten too hot for him there..."

Sam wrote everything down. Gene seemed to be taking it all at face value, but Sam couldn't help but wonder. He waited for a break, and then asked, "How do you know all this?"

Jack gave him the filthiest leer he'd ever seen on anyone. Gene waved a hand. "It's what Harkness does. He blows into town, blows half the town, blows out of town."

Jack smirked. "I always make time for the Gene Genie, though." He blew a kiss at Gene.

Sam was highly tempted to ask Gene where he fell on Jack's schedule of activities, but he didn't think he'd be extended the same surprising courtesy that Gene was giving Jack, of not shutting him up in the most violent manner possible. His mind drifted onto other possible ways that Gene could choose to shut him up, and he hastily dragged it back to safer topics. Having Jack around was making him think about things he'd already written off as unattainable, and that was no good.

Gene was puffing on the cigarette again. "Told you, Harkness, take it someplace else. Got no interest in your type."

"That's not what you said the night you kissed me."

Sam straightened in surprise. "I want to hear this."

"That was mouth-to-mouth, you ponce!" Gene roared, erupting from his chair. Sam moved out of the way hastily as Gene advanced on Jack. "You'd bloody stopped breathing, hadn't you?"

"Yeah, well." Jack shrugged. "It certainly woke me up, that's all I know."

"Kiss of life, well-done, Guv," Sam put in, grinning.

Gene turned on him. "Should've known you'd encourage him. Two of a kind, you are. Nancy pretty boys."

"It's your 'legendary prowess as a lover'," Jack quoted, smirking as Gene turned back to him. "And the way you're amazingly easy." Gene took a deep breath, and Jack finished, "...to wind up. All right, Gene, I'm done. Backing off now." He looked over at Sam. "I've got other options."

Gene glared at Jack. "Sam is not an option!"

Sam crossed his arms. "Can take care of myself, thanks, Guv." He still wanted to talk to Harkness about the 51st century thing, find out why he'd have said such an outlandish thing to Gene, but he'd put anything else out of his mind the moment he'd found out Jack was one of Gene's informants. Still, it was an instinct--when Gene pushed, Sam pushed back.

Jack raised his eyebrows but didn't pursue it. He turned back to Gene, all business once more. "Do you have anything for me?"

Gene glared at him a moment longer, then turned to his filing cabinet and rummaged through it. He pulled out a thin folder, scanning it. "Some quick sightings in London, nothing long-term...one here, but that was Fuzzy Witherspoon and he were most likely stoned out of his mind." He thumbed through the other papers. "Not much, but you're welcome to it. The only lead that looks like something is this here." He pointed at one of the papers. "UNIT's got a new bloke. Scientific advisor, they're calling him."

Jack looked dubious. "Working for the government? Doesn't sound like him."

Gene shrugged. "The description don't match, neither, but there's mention of a blue box he carts around with him."

Jack's eyes lit up. "Could be. And you know, I'm beginning to think that the description isn't important anyway." Gene handed him the folder. "I'll check it out. Thanks, Gene."

Gene looked at his watch. "Past time to be gone." He looked at them both and sighed. "I'm probably going to regret this later, but...pub?"

"I really ought to be leaving..." Jack glanced over at Sam, and smiled warmly. "But I can manage a few rounds. Just give me a minute. While I'm here I want to say hi to Leslie."

"Leslie?" Gene looked stunned. "You don't mean... _Litton_?"

Sam burst out laughing. "You know, that explains _so much_."

"Be right back," Jack said over his shoulder, and bounded out.

"Harkness!" Gene called after him. "The gun in Sam's desk, don't mention it to Litton, right?"

"My lips are sealed!" Jack called back.

Gene snorted. "Doubt that very much."

There was a moment's silence, and then Sam ventured, "Interesting bloke."

"Oh, yeah. Mad as a hatter, 'course."

"What, 'cause he's interested in me?" Sam wondered if some of Jack's recklessness was catching; he'd normally never have dared to say anything of the sort to Gene.

Gene looked sharply at him. "'Cause he thinks he's from the future."

"Oh. Well. Yeah." Sam shrugged.

"Good man, though. Stepped in front of a bullet meant for me a few years back. Thought he was dead, but I tried CPR anyway. He started breathing again, but then he disappeared in all the confusion. Turned up a few weeks later right as rain." Gene took his coat from the stand and put it on. "Always has good tips, too. Worthwhile listening to him when he shows up."

"But you were discussing cases with him," Sam said, remembering what had bothered him earlier. "That's not--"

"Jack's not your ordinary snout," Gene interrupted. "From what he's said, I think he might've been a copper once. Probably got kicked out when he went off his head, but you can trust him. Just don't turn your back on him or he'll pinch your arse." He looked Sam up and down. "Then again, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Sammy-boy?"

Sam ignored that. "And you collect information for him. He's looking for...a friend?"

Gene sighed. "Sam, he's looking for an alien with a disappearing police box. I told you, he's off his rocker. But we come across enough odd stuff around here, it don't hurt to pass along anything what looks like it'll make him happy."

He pointed towards Sam's desk. "Go on, get your coat."

Jack was coming back, looking disappointed, as Sam crossed over to his desk. "Leslie already left," he told them, and Gene made some sort of choking noise. "But I did run into Annie," Jack continued, sounding pleased. "She's going to the pub with us." He grinned. "I bet I can get her to do the pint trick."

"Five quid says she'll never," Gene grunted.

Jack pointed at him. "You're on."

"What's the pint trick?" Sam asked, intrigued.

Gene and Jack stared at him, then at each other. "Where has this boy _been_ all his life?" Jack asked.

"Oz, near as I can figure," Gene replied.

Jack draped an arm around Sam's shoulders and steered him towards the door. "Come on, Sam. I can tell you've got a whole lot to learn, and I'm just the man to teach you."

Gene growled from behind them. "Harkness, I'm warning you..."

Sam looked at Jack dubiously, but didn't pull away. Gene's opinions of Jack's sanity aside, if he didn't consider Jack an official informant, then Sam might reconsider his company for the night. It seemed to be the best offer he was likely to get, anyway. But Jack's style seemed liable to cause more trouble than it was worth. Sam said quietly, "You do know that this is a cop bar we're going to, right? In 1973?"

Jack grinned and leaned in to whisper in Sam's ear. "I know. Everyone there thinks I'm crazy, so it's not like it matters. But I can do discreet, really I can. Gene's the only one who'll notice. And believe me, he'll notice."

Sam stumbled; Jack caught him easily, sliding his arm down around Sam's waist and taking the opportunity to get even closer. "Uh--Gene and I--he's not--I mean--"

Jack laughed. "I've never had any luck with Gene myself, but you? He's practically staking out his territory. And I'm not blind, I can see I'm running a distant second with you. Stick with me, Sam, and I guarantee you'll get lucky by the end of the night." He grinned, his eyes sparkling, his eyes slanting down to linger on Sam's lips. "One way or another."


End file.
